All The Smartest People
by FusseKat
Summary: A crime scene reminds Goren of a similar childhood experience. Goren and Eames partnership. No specific timeline. One shot.


"Shhh, shhh; it's okay, you're okay. You're safe. Everything's going to be okay." A stranger's hand rubbed gently along small, thin shoulder blades in soothing circles.

Bobby Goren pulled back, and looked into serious eyes, a lump in his throat. A few paces away people were talking; someone saying something about how little kids shouldn't have to see things like this. He looked up; brown eyes eyes glaring enough to break up the conversation, if not the small knot of onlookers themselves.

"All right, people, give the kid some room," a beat cop pushed back the curious and the ambulance chasers and some reporter that had shown up to try to snap pictures.

"Want some ice cream? My favorite's chocolate." A man wearing a brown suit and a weary face asked.

"I...I like chocolate, too," the assertion was very quiet, uncertain.

"What's wrong, buddy?"

"Mommy...mommy says ice cream makes me hyper."

"_Poor little kid_. _Where's the older boy?_" someone was whispering.

"_What did she do to herself? Did she hurt the kids this time?"_ Someone else asked.

"She does, huh?" A bigger hand reached down and curled carefully around a smaller one. Seven-years-old was far too young to witness what had taken place inside the small house. "Well that's okay, chocolate ice cream does that to me too."

"Really?" A small smile. "Can we go get some?"

"Sure thing, kiddo. And we can talk while we eat it, okay? I need to ask you some important questions." Hesitation. The small hand tightened its grip, the thin frame shivered. "Are you cold?"

"N...no. You want to ask me about what I saw, don't you?"

"No, I don't, I really don't want to," the answer is honest, and awkward. "But I have to so we can see to it that your mom gets the help she needs, the right kind of help. Do you understand?"

Brown eyes, watching and waiting; Bobby swallowed hard in the quiet that passed between them.

"Yes, I understand."

"You're a very smart little boy. Want'a know how I know that?"

"How?"

"You like _chocolate_ ice cream. All the smartest people like chocolate."

* * *

Everything was chaotic; a crowd of spectators lingered behind the crime scene tape, the coroner was still on the scene, and half a dozen cameras were going off. Detective Alex Eames frowned irritably as she pushed her way through the crowd, her partner Bobby Goren, fast on her heels.

Goren grabbed the arm of the nearest officer as he clipped on his badge. "How about you get your partner and the two of you clear out some of these vultures and ambulance-chasers, hmm?" he suggested in a tone that made sound less like a suggestion and more of an order.

"We were told there was a witness?" Eames asked before the man took Bobby's 'suggestion'.

"Um…yeah. Over there," the officer pointed vaguely to his right, and Bobby and Alex exchanged a look before he moved off in the direction indicated.

The detective stopped dead in his tracks.

_You'll do what I say it or I'll lock you up in the basement and never let you out..._

_Poor little kid; he's going to miss her._

_How did you know to hide in the closet?_

_Closets are safe places._

_You're a very smart little boy_.

"Bobby?" Alex reached over and put a hand on his arm; he shrugged out of her grasp, crouching down a few paces away in front of a little girl who had both arms wrapped tightly around what looked like a stuffed tiger. The child's face was tear-stained and her eyes were red from crying. A policewoman was standing with her, talking softly to the girl. Bobby looked up at the cop, and made sure she noticed his badge.

"Can we have a few minutes?" he asked calmly, and the woman nodded and silently moved aside and spoke quietly with Alex. Bobby took a minute to collect his thoughts and then refocused on the little girl.

"Hi, there," he started softly. "My name's Bobby. And this is Alex," he motioned to his partner almost as an afterthought; his attention totally on the big blue eyes and the dishwater blonde curls. "What's your name?"

"I can't tell," the little girl whispered, clutching the tiger, eyes filling and spilling over with two fat tears. "The man said he'd hurt me like he hurted Daddy if I tell anything."

_It's okay, she can't get you now_...

Bobby reached over and wiped away one of the tears with the pad of his thumb. "It's okay, honey, he won't get you, I promise," he said firmly. "I always keep my promises."

Alex stepped in closer, and knelt down beside Bobby. She offered a comforting smile.

"I bet I can _guess_ your name," she said warmly. "I'm really good at that." She noticed the little girl tilted her head in much the same way Bobby did.

"Okay," she said, taking Alex up on her offer with the simplicity of a child.

Alex made a show of concentrating, closing her eyes and putting a hand to her forehead. When she opened her eyes, she smiled. "_You_ are Jennifer Ann and you are...six-years-old."

Jennifer was all wide-eyed wonder now, and she giggled.

Bobby seemed very far away, but at her glance, brought himself back.

"Jennifer," he said with a gentleness that Alex had often heard in his voice and wondered about, "Alex and I would like to talk to you awhile, okay? We need you to tell us what you saw the man do and what you heard him say." The six-year-old edged a closer, fear in her eyes, and she shook her head. "He won't hurt you, Jennifer. I won't let him."

"Who's this guy?" Alex asked as she reached out to pet the stuffed orange tiger in the girls' arms.

"He's Markie. He's a tiger. He's my favorite."

Alex said, looking at Bobby before proceeding. "Maybe Markie saw something. Can you tell us what Markie saw?"

The partners watched as the little girl whispered something into the stuffed animal's ear, and then looked up. "Markie says that's okay," she agreed, and Alex smiled.

"Oh, good," she answered the child steadily. "I bet Markie's a very smart tiger."

_You're a very smart little boy_.

Bobby straightened up and held out his hand to the little girl, and she took hold of the larger hand tightly and willingly. "Do you like chocolate ice cream?" he asked with a smile, and their witness grinned.

"Chocolate is my extra favorite," she whispered, as if it was the biggest secret in the world.

"Oh, then, you _have_ to be a really smart girl, too," Bobby exclaimed. "A very important person once told me that the smartest people all like chocolate ice cream."

* * *

"Bobby?"

The voice outside his apartment door finally captured his attention, and he also became aware of the knocking that sounded a little desperate; it must have been going on for a minute or two. Unfolding his long frame from the sofa, he got up to answer the door and was a little surprised to see Alex standing there.

"Hey," he said simply, a little at a loss for words, as his partner looked him over worriedly. "What's up?"

"Are you okay?" Alex shouted at him, but there was an unsubtle note of concern in her voice. "I was about to pound your door down."

"Sure, I'm fine. Why?" Bobby said loosely, stepping aside so she could enter. He closed the door and followed her back toward the couch, and paused when she stopped. She picked up the pint of ice cream he'd left on the coffee table in order to answer the door.

"Double Chocolate Fudge?" she raised an eyebrow.

Bobby shrugged slightly, spoon in hand and motioned toward the couch.

"What brings you by?" he asked absently as Alex handed the pint back to him and settled down on one end of the sofa. Bobby sat on the other end and propped his feet up on the coffee table, digging the spoon into the ice cream.

"I just thought you'd like to know, they found Jennifer's mother; she's all right, and both Jennifer and her mother are going into federal witness protection," It was the last bit of information Captain Deakins gave her before she left 1PP tonight. "I thought you'd like to know."

"Could've just called," Bobby mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate ice cream.

"Yes...yes I suppose I could've," She still wasn't looking at him when she asked, "What happened, Bobby?"

Her voice was soft, laced with that well meaning tone he'd come to recognize as a sign that she thought it had to do with his mother. She was usually right. When she did look up, Bobby had abandoned the pint of ice cream on the coffee table once again, and focused on a spot on the carpet. "Bobby?"

"It was when I… I found out my mom was sick. She tore the house up, ripping up the furniture, smashing everything she could, because my dad… my dad hadn't come home for a week. She threatened to lock up Frank and I in the basement…" he explained flatly, but there was a slight tremor behind his voice. "I was just a little older than Jennifer is now. The circumstance were different, but the scene today was very similar."

Minutes passed before Bobby turned to look at Alex. When he did, she smiled comfortingly. "Got another spoon?" she asked.

"Yeah, second drawer to the right of the 'fridge."

"You know," She called out from the kitchen as she rummaged through the drawer. "I have it on good authority that all the really smart people like chocolate ice cream."

"I've heard that too. And it just happens to be my all time, absolute favorite," Bobby held out the pint toward Alex as she settled back on the couch.

"Mine too."


End file.
